


Fingers in a Fist Like You Might Run

by Rare_pair_princess



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Dancing, Deception, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Guard Hanamaki Takahiro, Guard Matsukawa Issei, I'm trying slowburn, IwaSuga friendship, King Sawamura Daichi, Kiyoko and Yachi can kick ass, Lies, M/M, Minor Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Oh God Slowburn is Hard why cant they just KISS already, POWERFUL WOMEN ALERT, Political Alliances, Political schemes, Prince Oikawa Tooru, Prince Sugawara Koushi, Rating May Change, That's right, Though they're just mentioned in passing, emotions-heavy for the first half, it's just important, iwaoi friendship, more tags to come, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28573005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rare_pair_princess/pseuds/Rare_pair_princess
Summary: Koushi Sugawara loves his Kingdom- and Daichi- enough to accept his marriage to the crown prince of the Seijoh empire, Tooru Oikawa.What happens next is a winding maze filled with emotional hardships, political wars, and misunderstandings that he never saw coming.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 70
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the first fic where I've planned out every chapter-
> 
> Things to note before reading:
> 
> -Karasuno used to be a very powerful Kingdom, but fell. They were in crippling poverty, debt, and hunger, but thanks to Daichi's leadership, they are now quickly rising back to their former glory.
> 
> -I describe Koushi as he appears in the manga, with gray eyes
> 
> -Ignore the name of the fic, I was just listening to the song Other Side of Paradise and that’s a lyric.

Oikawa Tooru is sitting lazily on his jeweled throne, chin resting on his loose fist, when he sees Sugawara Koushi for the first time.

He knew that the castle was expecting visitors. He had prepared for this  _ special  _ guest with his finest silky white with blue and gold embroidered tunic, his most crisp and clean black trousers, his heaviest jewel-encrusted coat, and his finest, most expensive crown.

The entire day, the grandiose castle had been bustling with hundreds and hundreds of cooks and maids and servants, all preparing the most intricate foods with the finest ingredients, cleaning every surface until it was shining and spotless, and helping the royal family get ready.

And now, Tooru is face-to-face with the cause for all this commotion.

He’s face-to-face with big, gray doe eyes and shimmering silver hair. With the most pale, delicate looking skin he has ever seen and a cute little mole under those wide eyes. 

He’s face-to-face with his fiance.

Tooru could sneer. He would, if his father wasn’t on the throne to the side and above his own.

Sugawara Koushi, surrounded by a plethora of personal guards and flanked by several servants, drops to one knee and bows his head, those silvery strands falling over his face like a waterfall.

Oikawa Jin, Tooru’s father, is smirking like all the money in the world has just been handed to him, and he knows exactly what he’s going to do with it. 

Koushi is clad in a transparent white tunic, loosely draped over his shoulders and making him look even smaller and more delicate. It’s paired with tight, thin leggings, and the man looks like nothing less than an offering.

Probably because, in the grand scheme of things, that’s really all he is. Tooru would pity him, he truly would, if he wasn’t the one who the cute little offering was for.

“You may rise.” Jin’s voice is low, gravely, like a rumble of thunder. Koushi looks up, blinks those wide eyes and long lashes, and he looks so innocent.

Tooru hates him so much.

He  _ hates  _ this entire situation; being forced to dress up when all he truly wants to do is run around the courtyard with his best friend, Hajime. Being made to cake his face with skin-colored creams and light brown powders. Being forced to accept this pitiful offering from the tiny kingdom of Karasuno.

He remembers the fight he had with his father one moon ago. His father had off-handedly informed him about the situation, about how he had offered Tooru’s hand in marriage to some fourth-son prince from a neighboring kingdom. 

He remembers the harsh shouts and the hissed whispers of Tooru’s ungratefulness and selfishness. The servants in the room had been shaking when Tooru left the room, and the guards outside the door had looked at him with pity.

Tooru hopes he’s not left alone with this Sugawara Koushi any time soon. He worries he won’t be able to control his frustration. 

Koushi stands up, and the wide collar of that pathetic excuse of a tunic falls over his shoulder, revealing the milky expanse of skin pulled taut over a narrow shoulder.

He looks underfed, Tooru thinks judgmentally. He doesn’t want to admit that the two tiny moles high on Koushi’s arm are endearing. He doesn’t want to feel anything but irritation and anger.

He doesn’t want to get  _ married.  _ He’s only 19, and if he’s being honest, he had dreams about meeting the love of his life, whatever gender they may be, in much different, much more romantic scenarios. 

The prince of Karasuno still has yet to speak. 

Tooru’s father is still smirking. “Welcome to our palace, Koushi. I trust you find your new home to your liking.”

Tooru notices the tiny little flinch the pale little crow gives at the words  _ new home.  _ Interesting.

Koushi’s adam’s apple bobs with his gulp, and it’s almost audible. His pretty pink lips part, probably to speak, but no voice is heard.

Jin chuckles. The deep sound is like nails on a chalkboard to the prince of Seijoh. “It’s alright to be nervous. Though I hope you find your voice by the wedding.”

Tooru might have imagined it, but he thinks he saw something fiery and angery flash in those big, innocent eyes.

The brunette smirks, just a little. At least Koushi seemed just as irritated by this situation as he was.

Koushi nods, lips now in a thin, tight line, almost white with how firmly they’re pressed together.

Jin claps his hands twice, and the sharp sound echoes around the intricately decorated throne room. “Guards, why don’t you show Koushi to his room? It’s very nice, Koushi. Much better than what you’re used to, I’m sure. After the wedding, you’ll share a room with Tooru, of course.”

It’s never a wonder, to anyone in the kingdom or the palace, where Tooru got his little sadistic streak from. 

The brunette likes to think he’s not as much of a mindless asshole as the King, though. Many in the castle would agree.

The silver-haired prince bows deeply in thanks, before letting the plethora of armed guards lead him away from the bright purple carpet leading to the thrones and towards the heavy, gold encrusted-oak doors that led out of the throne room.

Tooru scoffs as soon as the door thuds shut.

_ “That’s  _ the best Karasuno had to offer? A malnourished man who looks white as a ghost?  _ That’s  _ who you deemed good enough for me to marry within the half-year?” There were a lot of things wrong with Tooru’s sentence, one of which being that Koushi had  _ not  _ looked malnourished. He looked pale and quite skinny, yes, but his arms were definitely gently toned- his abdomen as well, from what he could see through the translucent material of his tunic- and his skin had had a healthy glow. But Tooru was angry and bitter that he would now have to share his bed until  _ death did them part. _

Jin growled, turning his head to glower down at his son. “You will behave until the engagement is complete. Karasuno is growing stronger, and many believe they will become a formidable foe- or  _ ally.  _ This connection will do us well.”

“He can’t even bear children.”

“I have more than one son.” Jin’s tone suggested-  _ demanded- _ that there would be no argument, and even Tooru knew better than to push any further. 

He glared at the smooth granite floor. 

“Go and introduce yourself to your soon-to-be husband. You will respect him until Karasuno is no longer able to end his engagement. I don’t give a damn what you do after that, how you so choose to treat him, but know that this marriage will be permanent.”

Tooru was almost shaking with his bridled anger. Maybe he  _ was _ shaking, he didn’t know. His vision was going a little fuzzy; he felt like he might combust into flames at any second.

“Yes, father.”

\--

  
  


_ “Koushi, please. I hate asking you this, you know that I do, but it’s for the good of all of Karasuno. We couldn’t survive with an enemy like Seijoh.” _

Koushi’s hands were shaking, despite the tight fists they were clenched into. He made sure to keep his head high, his posture perfect, his steps graceful and light, but his entire body felt like a wound-up spring. Like a rubber band pulled as tightly as possible, about to snap any moment.

_ “D-Daichi-” _

_ “I’m sorry, Koushi. I… I can’t give you any choice.” There were tears gleaming in the young king of Karasuno’s eyes, but Koushi’s tears were already streaming helplessly down his face. _

_ “You can’t do this. You  _ promised  _ me.” The silvernette’s voice was turning cold, frozen at the edges. He knew that betrayal wasn’t uncommon in the royal courts, but… _

_ He never imagined that Daichi Sawamura, his greatest friend and love of his life, would ever do this to him. _

_ Daichi had  _ promised.  _ Promised Koushi a place at his side, in his  _ heart.

The guards stop in front of a large door at the end of some endless hallway. The ceiling is high, and Koushi could probably cartwheel four times from one side of the hall to the other.

Koushi found himself taking his anger out on the  _ hallway.  _ Who in the absolute  _ hell  _ needs hallways this wide? What is the purpose? It’s such a  _ waste. _

_ “You want me to dress up like some helpless little fawn, waiting to be devoured? You want me to present myself like a pretty piece of meat? You want me to bend over and allow some prince of Seijoh to do whatever he’d like with me, for the sake of diplomacy? Fine.” _

_ “Koushi, that’s not fair-”  _

_ “Not  _ fair?  _ Damn right it’s not  _ fair.  _ Nothing about what you are doing to me is fair! But I guess it’s just the way it is. I will do it for you, Daichi, with no further complaints. Because I love you. I trusted you too blindly, and that’s my own fault. Fuck you.” _

_ “Koushi… I-I’m sorry. I’m truly-” _

_ “Save it. Like you said, I don’t have a choice.” _

Koushi bites his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose. He tries to relax his muscles, relax the ugly glare that appeared the second he stepped foot out of that horrible throne room, but he can’t.

He’s just so… so…

Angry is not the right word. In a small, twisted way, he understands. He understands why Daichi, the man who told Koushi that he loved him and would protect him, had to marry him off to some kingdom’s shitty prince. Daichi had been thrust upon the throne as an act of desperation by a dying kingdom. He wasn’t even in the  _ line _ to the throne- that was Koushi’s family, technically. But Koushi’s mother hated the silvernette, and every other of her son’s were drunkards or bastard children, so Daichi had been selected.

Daichi had a lot of pressure, being forced to rule and care for an entire- though admittedly small- country. He was doing everything he could to protect Karasuno, and prevent its collapse, and he was doing a good job.

In the year Daichi had been King, Karasuno had been steadily rising out of it’s depression.

Marrying a prince to another kingdom would certainly ensure Karasuno’s safety and fortune.

But it  _ hurts.  _

It hurts so bad.

Being practically sold off to some man he had never met, and as _less than,_ hurts. Daichi had made sure to tell Koushi, with downcast eyes and a regretful frown, that Koushi would have to honor and respect Tooru Oikawa, no matter what.

Koushi  _ knows  _ what that means. He isn’t the empty-headed, fragile idiot he’s told to present himself as in court.

Well,  _ was  _ told.

He truly has little idea what’s expected of him now.

And it scares him.

All he truly knows is that he’s nothing more than a pretty little peace-offering between kingdoms, and the thought makes him dig angry red crescent marks into his palms.

The door to the bedroom is opened for him by an armour-clad guard, and Koushi steps gracefully onto a blue carpet. It’s a light blue, against the darkness of his leather boots. It’s a pretty color.

Koushi snorts, internally, at his thought. He may be stuck getting married to someone notoriously known for being a sadistic prick- though as many had been quick to point out to him when they noticed his face contort into an irritated frown, the brunette was  _ not nearly as horrible as his father! It will be okay!-  _ but at least the carpet in his new bedroom was pretty.

Actually, maybe Koushi  _ should  _ focus on that. This situation, it isn’t going to  _ go away.  _ And Koushi has no idea what the future holds. Positivity is all he has.

Even if it’s about  _ carpets. _

“Uhm, Master? Is the room not to your liking?” A small girl, much shorter than Koushi, with long dark hair looks up at Koushi shyly. With a little burst of shock, Koushi realizes that the only people in the room now are him, the small servant girl, and two guards by the now closed door.

  
  


Koushi hasn’t moved, and has been staring at the carpet tear-prickled eyes. Of course the girl is concerned he hates the room.

“No, no, it’s very nice,” Koushi rushes to assure. She looks no older than thirteen.

Already, Koushi has noticed many differences between his homeland and Seijoh. Karasuno  _ never  _ took children as servants- and would  _ never  _ brand them. The girl is wearing a long, plain beige dress. It’s sleeveless, and Koushi sees a thick, dark scare in the shape of Seijoh’s symbol.

The silvernette’s upper lip curls in disgust, but he quickly smooths it into a hopefully gentle smile when the girl flinches.

“I was just admiring the carpet. I love the room.” Koushi’s voice cracks, and he can’t hide it, but the girl just nods. 

“If there is anything you need or desire, please let me know. I’m Ai.” Ai bends into a low bow, but doesn’t rise. Koushi’s eyebrows furrow, until he realizes that she’s waiting for permission.

Gods, Koushi really needed a nap. And wine.

He almost thinks  _ I need Daichi,  _ but he stops himself.

“You don’t have to bow to me,” The silver-haired man says softly. He doesn’t want anyone to be  _ scared  _ of him.

The girl rises slowly, but when she looks at him with piercing blue eyes, she doesn’t look scared. 

“If you need  _ anything,  _ ring the bell on your nightstand. I am at your beck and call.” With that, the girl bows again quickly and makes her leave.

And with that, save for those two silent guards in front of his door, he is alone.

He looks around the room. It’s  _ big,  _ bigger than his own in the Karasuno castle, though that makes sense. Seijoh has been an empire for a very long time, their size and wealth is rivaled only by Shiratorizawa. 

There’s a large bed with a light gold canopy against the middle of the far wall. There are large mirrors and a few paintings along the eggshell white walls. There’s golden trim along the walls, too, and there’s a glossy oak wardrobe next to a bead-decorated dresser. 

It’s so, so different from his room back in Karasuno. In his home kingdom, his room had been fairly small- though still large by comparison to a room in an average home, of course- and filled with bookcases. The clean gray carpet of his room had always been covered with clutter, books and sports’ balls and little toys and paper and lead pencils.

_ “Koushi, seriously, you’re a prince! Clean your room!” _

_ “Jeez, what are you, my dad?” _

Koushi sniffs and it’s the least delicate sound he’s ever made. It’s loud and filled with snot, and it’s  _ gross,  _ and he does it again. He brings the heels’ of his palms to his eyes and tries to stifle a sob, but he can’t.

He must look so pathetic to those guards. They both hold dangerously sharp spears and are wearing heavy metal armour. He thinks of how he himself must look next to them, smaller and wearing clothes made of barely any fabric with tears flooding his eyes.

He feels so  _ vulnerable,  _ and he  _ hates  _ it, and as much as he  _ loves  _ Daichi it’s so hard not to blame him. 

“Uhh, do you need, like, a tissue or something?”

Koushi freezes. Both the marriage advisor and man Daichi had introduced as an  _ Intercultural Expert  _ at Karasuno had told Koushi not to expect any guards to speak to him.

He swallows the lump in his throat, and turns around to face the guards. His face is probably red and blotchy, but really, it’s not the guards that it’s Koushi’s duty to impress. It’s the royal family.

“U-um, yes pl-please.” He hates how shaky his voice is, with anger or sadness or homesickness. It’s why he hadn’t talked in the throne room. His unsteady voice makes him sound so  _ weak. _

He’s okay, to some extent, being given as a pretty, obedient gift to Seijoh. He’s okay wearing demeaning clothes that make him look like he's begging to be ruined.    
  


But he refuses to be  _ weak.  _ He’s okay with being  _ seen  _ as weak. But he refuses to be truly defenseless.

The guard who spoke is tall with narrow eyes and heavy eyelids. Actually, they’re  _ both  _ ridiculously tall, with sleepy expressions and slouching posture. 

Not exactly what Koushi expected.

The guards aren’t wearing helmets, either, and Koushi can see short, light pink hair on the one who spoke 

and a dark, curly mess of hair on the other.

The pink-haired one reaches into the metal of his silver and blue-painted chestplate, and pulls out a handkerchief. 

Koushi stares. Blinks. These guards…  _ really  _ didn’t seem…  _ professional.  _ They were nothing like the cold, regal ones who had led him into the palace.

He accepts the handkerchief and blows his nose. It sounds like an elephant, but they’ve already heard him snort back snot, so he can’t bring himself to care.

They’re both watching him, head tilted. Despite his body feeling heavy and tense, he raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not-” The dark haired one starts. He looks uninterested and mysterious, and if Koushi wasn’t just given off for political marriage, he would probably try to see if he could make those pouty lips smile.

“-what we expected.” The other finishes bluntly. Koushi blows his nose one more time, and considers their words.

“You’re not what I expected, either. Finishing each other’s sentences like freaky twins.”

The slightly taller one, the one with a birdsnest of curly black hair, hums. “You should rest while you can. The King will probably send Tooru here to properly meet you soon.”

The other guard nods. “Mhm. Hey, Issei, let's make a bet on if Tooru will hate him or not!”

_ Issei,  _ Koushi notes, snorts. “Of course he’ll hate him, Hiro. He hated him before he even  _ met  _ him.” Koushi can’t help the ice that seeps into his skin. He  _ knows  _ the prince hates him. He almost shivers as he remembers those cold, calculating brown eyes.

Koushi decides that he hates Tooru, too.

“He is very pretty, though,” Hiro drawls, raking his gaze down Koushi’s body. The silver-haired man curls his upper lip, before he remembers that Daichi told him to be  _ docile. _

_ “You can’t act up or yell or shout or fight. Just… be docile. It will keep you safer, too.” _

_ “Okay.” _

_ “I’m really sorry about this.” _

_ “Okay.” _

_ “I love you. I’ll try to find a way to bring you back, I will, but this is truly the only way. This hurts me too, you know.” _

_ “...Okay-” _

Docile. Docile. Koushi takes a deep breath, and turns away from the guards. They’re interesting, he thinks, but still the  _ enemy.  _ Everyone in this damn castle is his  _ enemy.  _

He crawls onto the large bed, and the mattress sinks under his hands and knees.

_ Enemy. They’re all my enemy.  _

_ I don’t want to be here. _

_ “Be docile.” _

He sniffs again. He’s angry and tense, but mostly… he’s just  _ empty.  _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I would update every tuesday- then remembered, I am busy-
> 
> So uhmm Friday! I will update every Friday!!<3
> 
> This chapter is- MUCH longer than I anticipated- almost 6,000 words!! ??!!  
> Sorry if there's mistakes, I'm horrible at editing my own long chapters. If chapters keep being this long, I'm going to have to beg Shi-sama to beta read ;^;
> 
> ALSO! NOTE!  
> This doesn't take place in a specific time period or country. It's before technological advancements and stuff, of course. Okay, please enjoy!

Tooru does not go and visit his fiance. He hates things that are not in his control, and while technically Sugawara Koushi _is_ within his control- It is the duty of anyone who marries into Seijoh’s royal family to honor their spouse above even themselves- Tooru’s marriage to him is _not._

The brunette seethes as he practically storms down a corridor. He’s certain his features are twisted into an ugly glare, he knows that he’s throwing a childish tantrum, but he doesn’t _care._ He grabs his heavy, diamond and sapphire encrusted crown from his head and _throws_ it. It clatters harshly against a wall, falls to the hard ground with a crashing thud, but Tooru doesn’t look back at it.

He’s throwing a tantrum.

If Hajime was around right now, he’d punch Tooru in the shoulder and tell him to stop being a baby. Tooru can just _hear_ the spiky-haired man’s scolding tone. He is such a _mom._

Tooru loves him. He really does. He’s the Prince’s closest friend- one of his _only_ friends. They’re very close in age, and Hajime is the son of the King’s closest advisor, so really, it makes perfect sense that the two are so close.

Not to mention, Hajime is really one of the only people in the castle who doesn’t let Tooru get away with being a pouty bitch.

Right now, Tooru is free to throw a fit all he wants. 

Maybe he’s overreacting. Arranged marriage is nothing uncommon amongst royalty, and never has been. Tooru’s mother and father’s marriage had been arranged, before the woman died giving birth to Tooru’s younger brother, Shigeru. And Tooru has known ever since he had a small bearing of consciousness that he would have to get married, and young.

But he’s always been a romantic.

And it’s frustrating to have every aspect of his life forced upon him. His studies, which languages he was to learn, what skills he was to master, even what _clothes he wears in the morning_ are often chosen for him.

He’d has stupid dreams of sneaking out of the palace in commoner clothes and meeting someone who loves adventure or something, who would show him a new side of life and they would fall hopelessly in love with each other. It’s a stupid cliche that he had read once in a book, but Tooru had remembered it.

Gods, he really is quite pathetic.

But he still can’t shake his hatred for Koushi.

It’s not a burning, intense hatred with the passion of a thousand suns. No. It’s more like… a river. It’s flowing through him, cold and under skin, the pull of it leading towards a deep ocean of simple hate.

Tooru’s marriage to him is uncontrollable and against Tooru’s own desire. It’s plain as that. And because Tooru hates the situation, he hates who the situation brought.

Tooru may have to marry Koushi Sugawara, but he does not have to see him. Or talk to him. Or acknowledge his existence in any way.

Hajime would punch him if he heard him use that logic, but Tooru stands by it.

_He’s being childish._

Whatever. 

He continues walking down the long hallway, to the end of the left wing of the castle- it’s the complete opposite of where Koushi is currently residing, but that’s not _entirely_ why he’s here. There’s also a library, two floors, filled to the brim with thousands and _thousands_ of books. Pages filled with harrowing and perilous adventure, outlandish fantastical tails and the most tragic of romances. There’s carpets littered all over the floor, with tables and chairs and just pillows on the floor for sitting.

It’s Tooru’s favorite place in the entire castle, besides maybe the garden or that balcony that looks over it.

The guards at the double-doors nod at him while he walks into the giant room. There’s huge floor-to-ceiling windows framed by cobblestone. The light is cascading in from the heavens, making some of the opened pages on polished red-oak tables glow. There are bookshelves lined up _everywhere,_ high and filled to the absolute brim.

It’s _beautiful._ The smell of paper, pages old and new, is dry and a little earthy and it surrounds him. 

Tooru finds a book quickly, today about scientist and philosophists theories about the nighttime sky and what’s beyond it.

The young prince has always been drawn to the sky, whether it be the vivid blue or void darkness. The blazing sun or the lonely moon, all the twinkling stars or those balls of something fiery that sometimes streak through the night.

It’s all so _beautiful._

The librarian, a slouched, little old woman but a very bright scholar, gives him a soft, knowing smile while he sits down. She’s one of Tooru’s favorite people in the castle, besides Hajime. She’s quiet and smart, and will sometimes listen to Tooru rant about the positions of the planets and the sun.

He smiles back at the wizened woman, her hair pulled into a tight bun, and sits down at a table right next to one of those windows. He has to squint his eyes, the table’s finish is so glossy the sunlight is reflecting and making it shine blindingly bright.

He blinks a few times to let his eyes adjust, before he buries himself in the book.

His frustration melts away, slowly, replaced with curiosity and wonder as he reads about comets and asteroids _moons_ of different planets. That chilly river of hatred flowing deep in him ebs, until it’s little more than a steady trickle.

It’s still there, though. 

Tooru turns the page. It’s about those little trails that follow a comet. No one yet knows what they’re made of, but this philosopher suggests that it’s something magical sent from the gods. The longer the trail, the happier the gods are and the more we will be blessed.

Tooru rolls his eyes, but keeps reading.

He doesn’t believe in _magic_ or _gods,_ but he knows the people of Seijoh would revolt if he questioned the existence of higher deities. He knows his father often goes to see a witch and ask about his fortune.

Besides, he likes fantasy just as much nonfiction. 

There’s a sketch, with faint color, of a shooting star. The trail of it is pale purple and light blue and-

_Silver._

Wide, docile gray eyes flash in his mind.

He slams the book shut and whips it as hard as he can away from him, watching it with a glare as it lands wide open and collapses onto its own pages, bending them. 

The librarian, Akiko, gasps, the sound aged and a little rough.

Tooru scoffs, a little at his own behaviour and a lot at the thought of his pathetic fiance. He can hear Hajime telling him to stop acting like a spoiled, bratty child.

He can hear himself whining back, but listening.

His sigh is more of a growl as he shoves at the table to scoot his chair backwards. It scrapes against the wooden planks it’s on, probably leaving little scratches in the floor.

He doesn’t want to picture the embodiment of his helplessness in his personal haven.

He ignores Akiko’s sullen but worried expression as he leaves the library. He considers, for a very brief moment, visiting Koushi.

He _knows_ that he’s acting like a stubborn child.

But he doesn’t _care._ He doesn’t have a reason to.

He can still practically hear Hajime scolding him, but he ignores it. 

“If you want to tell me what to do, at least actually be here to do it,” He mutters to himself. Maybe he relies too much on his friend.

* * *

Koushi wakes up feeling like his head has been stuffed full of snot. The center of his head throbs and his eyes ache- he doesn’t even want to _imagine_ the bags that must be under his eyes. 

That’s what he gets for crying himself to sleep. It’s been years since he’s _cried,_ and he feels gross and weak and pathetic.

Koushi vows, out of spite and self-hatred, that last night was the first and _final_ time he would waste time sporting tears.

He looks around the room groggily, running a hand through his tangled silver hair and yawning, and realizes that absolutely nothing has changed. The same two guards are still posted on either side of the door, and they look at Koushi with mildly amused expressions.

Koushi feels a little offended, for a moment. What’s their deal, anyways? None of the other guards in the palace have given him even a second glance, let alone _talk_ to him without being spoken to, like these two do. The gray-eyed prince knows enough to know that their behaviour is not in alliance with proper guard etiquette. 

“See anything interesting?” He snaps, wincing a little as his forehead throbs. He hates the after-effects of crying; he’s always been so weak to it, his body aches and his head pounds and he gets so congested the day after.

Not very beautiful or delicate. Just gross and ache-y.

It’s a good thing Koushi has been groomed from a very young age to be able to quickly pull himself together with a pretty bow.

“Yeah,” The pink-haired- _Hiro-_ one responds honestly. Koushi wonders how long the two have been awake. They don’t look tired- or, any more tired than he assumes is their default expression.

“You don’t look good,” The other, Issei, explains, as if Koushi doesn’t already _know._ He _never_ looks good in the mornings unless he takes special effort not to sleep too deeply, not to roll around or snore or drool.

“Thanks,” He says dryly, scratching his bare chest, just under his prominent collar bone. The silken cream-colored blankets fall lower on his torso, slipping gracefully to pile over his lap. The fabric is cool and smooth against his skin- he had stripped into his undergarments before crawling into bed for the night and crying himself to sleep.

“You’re welcome!” Hiro says cheerfully, much too cheerfully for someone who had supposedly stood in front of a door all night, watching Koushi sleep.

The chirped tone irks him, a little bit, and then he’s annoyed at himself for being annoyed. Back in Karasuno, he was known for his patience and kindness. He had two personal servants who he more considered- _considers-_ as friends. Their names are Tadashi and Shouyou, and the latter of the two would always wake him up with enthusiastic shouts of how great the day was going to be.

Koushi misses them both. So much.

“A few maids are coming in one half hour to get your ready for breakfast,” Issei informs him idly, the blunt part of his spear on the ground while he leans on it. “The King, Prince Tooru and Prince Shigeru will be there.”

Koushi sighs, nods. Runs a hand through his tangled silver hair.

_“You have to be sure to impress the royal family of Seijoh! Be obedient, graceful.”_

_“...Yes, sensei.”_

_“Our relationship with the Kingdom of Seijoh relies on this marriage, so make sure you are the finest specimen of a dutious husband.”_

_“Yes, sensei.”_

_“You’re being suspiciously compliant, Koushi. You need to take this seriously.”_

He’s nervous to again meet the family he’s practically been sent here to _seduce._

Phrasing it like that is a bit dramatic, but the idea stands. 

His nose scrunches at the idea of being in the company of King Jin’s presence again. The tall, burly man is not only intimidating by his dark presence alone, but every word that comes out of his mouth is double-edged or just _demeaning._ He looks down on everyone who isn’t himself. He is a very vain King.

So unlike Daichi, who is kind and good and puts his Kingdom above everything.

_Everything._

Even Koushi. 

Koushi slips out of bed, and as soon as his feet touch the soft carpet he wants to collapse. He feels… _heavy._

Is he depressed? He feels depressed. He feels lonely. And homesick. And as much as he resents the handsome bastard now, he misses _Daichi._

The carpet is still that pastel blue. His feet kind of look like clouds against the color.

He’s probably not depressed. He’s just in shock. Of course he misses home, he had an entire _life_ there that he’s been ripped away from. He had a lover, friends, a _best friend._  
  


He walks to the red-oak wardrobe, curious about what’s inside it. He knows if he gets dressed it will be for nothing- the maids are definitely just going to strip him again, bathe him and dress him up, but he doesn’t have anything better to do than to look around his new temporary room.

The wardrobe is next to another door, which he assumes leads to the bathroom. He can feel the guards’ gaze on his naked back.

He had his own personal guards back at Karasuno, too. Their names were Shimizu Kiyoko and Hitoka Yachi, and they were the kindest and _strongest_ people he knew.

He misses them so bad, his heart feels like it _actually_ aches. It feels physically empty. He feels tears try to burn his eyes, but he forces them away.

No more crying.

The wardrobe is filled with lacy nightgowns and low-necked dresses and sheer, loose tunics and colorful, fitted and beaded coats. Koushi’s nose scrunches. He’s never been a particular fan of dresses- not only do they often represent submission or fragility among the upper society, but he just prefers trousers- and he has no need for tiny, frilly nightgowns. He sleeps _naked,_ thank you very much.

Well, he will until he must share his _betrothed’s_ bed.

He’s been pointedly trying to keep Tooru out of his mind. He doesn’t like thinking about those cold brown eyes looking down at him scornfully, that cocky smirk or judging, calculated gaze.

He shoves the Prince out of his mind. They’re not married yet- Koushi hasn’t even _spoken_ to him yet.

Koushi can’t tell if he hates Daichi for forcing him to marry Tooru, or if he hates Tooru because he’s marrying him and not Daichi.

He misses Daichi _so much._ Those _kind_ brown eyes and that patient smile, that stern tone that told Koushi to stop climbing up the rails of the staircases in the ballroom.

He shoves the happy memories out of his mind. They’re worthless now, anyway.

He explores the rest of the room; there’s a massive dresser with far too many drawers, filled with priceless heavy jewelry of every kind and color, all kinds of powders and creams, lotions, scented oils. 

The guards don’t say anything else while he wanders, just watch him silently. He’s grateful for the silence, and savors it, until he hears a few sharp taps on the door.

Koushi knows exactly what that purposeful knock means. His mother’s personally maids for Koushi had a creepily similar knock themselves, before royal court events or grande balls.

He takes a deep breath, slaps his palms against his cheeks and relishes in the sting, and then turns to face the door with a welcoming smile right as it opens.

“Hello!” He says graciously, bowing to the maids in greeting. There’s four of them, twice as many as the people who always prepared him for events back at Karasuno, and they all look vastly different. 

There’s one man, tall with spiked black hair that makes him look even taller. The other three are women, one older looking than the rest, taller than the other two girls and plump, with beautiful raven hair pulled back in a bun. The other two girls are short, both blonde with dull, sullen green eyes.

_They must be twins,_ is all Koushi can think, before the man is bowing eagerly to Koushi.

“I am Yutaro!” He practically shouts, and Koushi can see Hiro snicker out of the corner of his eyes. Koushi himself winces.

He had a feeling this was going to be even more miserable than it had been in Karasuno, somehow.

The three women follow suit, albeit in a much more calm manner, bowing respectfully to Koushi and introducing themselves.

“I am Remiru,” The oldest woman says in a neutral tone. She sounds cautious. Koushi doesn’t blame her.

“I am Kaori, and this is my sister Rika,” The twin on the left introduces. “Please let us take care of you.”

Koushi nods, wondering briefly why Rika didn’t introduce herself. “Of course,” He says, trying to keep his tone gentle but not timid. 

Timid is almost the same as _weak._

None of the maids look surprised at his lack of clothing, and Koushi can tell, when they rise from their deep bows, that they are strictly here to do their duties and leave. Their eyes are dull, save for Yutaro, but even the man doesn’t seem too keen on making conversation.

Koushi wonders if they’re even _allowed_ to.

_It’s so different from home,_ Koushi thinks with another wave of homesickness as he’s led by Kaori and Remiru to the bathroom. In Karasuno, his maids were named Yuu and Asahi, and they were both great friends with Sugawara. They would fight him- well, Yuu would, Asahi is a butterfly and can rarely _fight_ with anyone- about taking care of him. Sugawara would insist that he could do things himself, and Yuu would jokingly accuse him of trying to put them out of a job.

Yuu was enthusiastic, Asahi was gentle, and Koushi _misses_ them so much he almost stumbles when Remiru’s fingers curl around the waistband of his plain white undergarments. 

Koushi is probably going to have to get used to not bathing or dressing himself again.

There’s already hot water in the bath, and Koushi realizes that there’s another door in the bathroom, probably so that the maids can get everything ready before he wakes up.

The entire bath is done in complete silence; they scrub his skin with lavender soap until it’s red and burning, and then they pour water over him with wooden buckets. They rub a sweet-smelling shampoo into his hair, and although it’s done somewhat rigidly and dutifully, Remiru puts a hand over his eyes while they wash it out, so that no suds get into his eyes.

Koushi would smile, if the whole process doesn’t make him feel so stupidly homesick.

_“Gods, Koushi, stop squirming! You have people to impress today, let me condition your damn hair already!”_

_“Ahhh, you can’t tell me what to do! Aren’t you supposed to call me master?” Koushi teased, and Yuu just ro_ _lled his eyes._

_“Sorry,_ Master, _now hold still!” Yuu placed his hand over Koushi’s eyes, ignoring his playful pout, while he rinsed the conditioner he had finally been able to stroke into his hair._

He closes his eyes as they continue washing his hair, and bites his lip for a second before remembering that biting his lip would give him chapped lips. So he just stares at the backs of his eyelids, breathing through his nose and trying to beg the memories to just _go away._

Koushi’s skin is still irritated while they help him out of the bath, he’s always had sensitive skin. It itches as soon as he hits the cold air, but he ignores it. He stares forward numbly, saving his energy for when he needs to present himself once again to the royal family.

As soon as he’s out of the water, the two maids start drying him off, quickly and without care, but thoroughly. The material of towels is soft and cool against his burning skin, though it kind of hurts as the older woman tugs at his strands to dry his hair.

He kind of appreciates the slight pain, though. It keeps the memories at bay.

Next, the other twin walks into the spacious washroom, holding a little glass bottle with a print of a rose on it. 

_“Mm, Koushi, you smell like roses.”_

_“Daichi…”_

_“You’re so beautiful, my love.”_

Koushi almost _whimpers,_ honest to the gods _whimpers,_ but he somehow manages to stifle it. The girl notices his expression, though, and pinches her thin eyebrows in concern.

“Are you allergic?” Kaori asks for her sister, voice quiet but steady. Koushi tries to say _no,_ but his voice leaves him.

He nods.

The girl holding the scented oil just nods back and leaves the room, returning quickly with something else that smells flowery and kind of like vanilla when they rub it into his skin.

It’s easy not to squirm while all these unfamiliar hands are roaming around his body. He’s used to people foreighn to him touching him.

As soon as he’s clean as can be and smells like a garden, he’s led back to his room, where Yutaro has lain out clothes. There’s a lacy, light pastel pink tunic that looks loose and breathy- and like it’s going to fall over his shoulders- but Koushi sees something unfamiliar next to it. It’s white, and looks stiff, and-

_Oh._

It’s a corset.

It looks much thinner than the corsets he’s seen his mom suffer to breathe with, but it’s still a _corset_ and even though Koushi has definitely worn his fair share of uncomfortable clothing, he’s always refused _that._

It’s white and even more lacy than the tunic and has little white flowers seemingly blooming from it. It takes everything in Koushi not to curl his upper lip, but he’s well trained in the art of hiding his expressions and instead just smiles.

He hears one of the guards snicker. Maybe Koushi didn’t hide his disgust as much as he thought he did.

Yotaru dresses Koushi quickly with gentle hands, and soon his tunic is tucked into a light blue- so light that it’s almost yet another shade of white- skirt. _Of course it’s a skirt._ The fabric is long and although it covers what needs to be covered with beads and lace, it’s _sheer._ It’s sheer and there’s even a slit on the side. Like everything else he’s worn recently, it puts him on display.

“This corset is made to be worn above the tunic, master,” Yotaru explains as it’s put around Koushi’s waist. “It’s not going to be as tight or breath-stealing as the ones you may have seen some women wear. Although, you might want to brace yourself, master.” 

The silver-haired prince nods, and then the ribbons behind the corset are being _yanked,_ and Koushi almost stumbles off his feet at the sudden harshness. His breath is stolen from him, momentarily, and he curls his toes into the fluffy carpet.

The carpet is very fluffy, and soft, and pretty.

Koushi focuses on that, and not on that one time he stole a corset from his mother because Shimizu wanted to see if they really were _that bad._

The corset is pulled tighter and tighter, tight enough for it to be uncomfortable against his waist. His entire torso feels more compact, and he’s already eagerly awaiting to be able to take it off, even if it’s not majorly affecting his breathing. He’s jerked around slightly as the ribbons are tied tightly, securing the corset around him.

“You look great, master!” Yutaro compliments, stepping in front of him. Koushi forces himself to smile, thank the tall male gently. “Now just makeup, and then your guards will take you to breakfast!”

Koushi hides a wince. He _really_ hopes he won’t have to dine with the royal family every morning- he doesn’t want to go through all this every morning.

Though, once he’s _married,_ he’ll probably have to.

“Lovely,” Koushi says with a smile, voice light. He’s already tired. He wants Daichi.

Did Daichi know that Koushi would have to dress like this when he sent him here? Probably. Koushi has worn much more demeaning clothes for much less reason.

Koushi wants Daichi so _bad,_ his comforting warmth and strong arms and gentle sternness, but he also kind of _hates_ him now.

* * *

When Koushi walks into the dining room, flanked by Issei and Hiro- _when do they get to sleep?!-_ he’s blown away. The ceiling of it is _so high,_ high enough for there to be a balcony _above_ the balcony above his head. There’s sprawling windows high on the walls made of stained glass, and there’s statues and brightly colored rugs and murals decorating everywhere.

It’s so colorful, and grande, and Koushi hasn’t even seen the table yet.

The table is wide and _long,_ a dark oak with some kind of glossy finish. It’s set up in the very middle of the room, and King Jin sits at the head.

Koushi dips into a bow towards the King once he’s a few feet into the room, even though the table is still meters away. “Good morning, King Jin,” He greets, projecting his voice, and he’s internally proud of himself for how steady his tone is.

“Oh, splendid! You found your voice. Come join us, Koushi!” The King’s voice is loud and jovial, but it sends shivers down his spine. He looks at the floor as he walks- not only because it’s a sign of submission, but also because he doesn’t want to look at his fiance.

He just doesn’t.

* * *

Tooru ignores the meek presence next to him. He completely shuts out those soft gray eyes and that flowery, revealing outfit and snowy skin and passive, pink smile. 

Koushi Sugawara doesn’t _exist_ to him, right now.

He picks up a piece of sweet bread and bites into it, almost scoffing at how hesitant his fiance looks to eat.

Dammit. He’s ignoring Koushi, starting _now._

He looks across the table to his little brother, only one year his junior, and stifles a sneer. His brunette brother is staring shamelessly at Koushi, eyes lidded and pupils dilated.

_Gross._

_If Shigeru wants him so bad, why am_ I _stuck with him?_

“How was your first night in the castle, Koushi? I trust that my eldest son visited you before went to bed.”

Tooru freezes at his father’s words, and in front of him, Shigeru smirks. 

“I-”

“Oh please, Father, everyone knows that Tooru just threw a tantrum and stormed off to the library. According to the servants, his crown was found laying on the ground in the corridor to it. Again.” Shigeru raises his eyebrows at Tooru before stuffing another bite of egg into his mouth. “I don’t get why Tooru gets the pretty husband, I’m a million times more mature.”

Tooru’s eyes flash. “I’d give him to you if I could!” Next to him, from the corner of his eye, he sees Koushi stiffen. A small part of him feels satisfied; Koushi _should_ suffer _, should_ feel uncomfortable. 

_“Boys,”_ Jin growls, his powerful voice demanding their attention. Shigeru rolls his eyes and faces him; Tooru just glares.

He wonders what meek little Koushi’s reaction was to his father’s dark voice. He turns to look at the pale fawn- well, scowl would be a better word than look- and sees wide eyes and a perfectly passive smile.

No emotion outside of the stiffness that Tooru sees in those narrow shoulders.

He audibly scoffs, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from sticking it out childishly when Koushi turns to look at him questioningly.

Tooru hates him. Tooru was scoffing _at_ _him,_ and yet the silvernette only blinks at him with big eyes and a small smile. _At least glare back at me!_

Koushi blinks again, and tilts his head.

Tooru’s fists clench.

“Koushi,” Jin interrupts his stewing thoughts of hatred. Koushi, clearly startled by the sudden call of his name, drops the apple slice he’s picked up, and Tooru snickers.

Something flashes in those rainy cloud-colored eyes. It’s quick, like a flash of lightning, but Tooru _saw_ it. It was bright and angry, and the brunette feels the corners of his lips curl into a smirk.

Koushi turns his attention to Tooru’s father, who’s calculating gaze and sickenly sweet smile is focused entirely on him.

The silver-haired man squirms, but the smile doesn’t leave his lips. Tooru _hates_ him. He’s kind of like a pretty, emotionless doll and Tooru hates him. 

“Are you looking forward to the wedding?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Koushi is absolutely _fuming._

Internally, of course, but fuming all the same.

_How dare_ Tooru Oikawa be so clearly angry at him? So clearly _blame_ him? How dare _Tooru_ be so upset about their marriage when Koushi was the one who was ripped from everything he knew? 

Koushi was forced to give up _everything_ for this marriage, and yet Tooru is acting like it’s _his_ life that was ruined.

_“Are you looking forward to the wedding?”_

What a joke. He had forced himself to nod at the question, say _yes_ through grit teeth. The wedding is in about one month, and Koushi is _genuinely_ considering writing to Daichi and _demanding_ that the wedding be called off. Koushi knows that there’s a few things he could say that would make Daichi listen.

But this wedding is a peace treaty between Karasuno and Seijoh.

Even if Koushi is absolutely suffering, it’s for the good of the entirety of Karasuno. 

The material of his skirt brushes against his bare legs as he walks. Next to him, Tooru is glowering, upper lip curled and eyebrows furrowed.

Koushi wants to grab him, slap him, tell him that he may be inconvenienced but Koushi is being forced through _hell._

(Maybe Koushi is being a bit of a drama queen, too. Whatever).

Instead, makes his smile a little brighter as he turns to face his fiance. The king had told Tooru to give Koushi a tour of the castle, with six guards trailing them, but so far they had just been walking in uncomfortable silence.

Koushi wonders if there’s anything he can say, to make Tooru realize that he doesn’t want this either. He doesn’t want to be the Prince’s friend, he doesn’t want to get closer to him, but…

It would be nice if not every breakfast was that passive-aggressive and tense.

“Look, I-”

_“Save it.”_ The words are practically snarled. “We don’t have to talk.”

Koushi pouts, bottom lip protruding in offense. Because honestly, what the hell? It isn’t _Koushi’s_ fault this is all happening! Koushi had argued _against_ it!

He takes a deep breath, and then another, swallowing his argument. Daichi had told him to be _docile,_ and starting a fight with his fiance would _not_ be docile.

Koushi stays silent for a few more seconds. They’re walking down a long hallway, they’ve passed countless doors, and Koushi still doesn’t know where they’re going.

He asks, keeping his voice gentle.

Tooru side-eyes him, and the _look_ in those brown eyes is intense enough to make Koushi gulp. “Cut it out with the _oh, I’m so pretty and cute and fragile and soft!_ act,” The prince snaps, whirling around to directly face Koushi. They’ve stopped walking, now, and Koushi’s eyes widen. 

“You’re just as angry about this as me, aren’t you? So cut the bullshit!” He continues, walking closer to the silvernette. Koushi takes a step back, lips parted in surprise. _So, he knows that I’m just as mad as he is about this situation?_

_So why is he taking it out on me, then?!_

Koushi’s eyebrows threaten to furrow in anger, but he keeps his features relaxed. His body is shaking a little, though, with the effort to keep his anger deep down inside of him and not let it bubble out.

He steps back again as Tooru stalks even closer. The taller prince’s eyes are narrowed into a mean sneer, and Koushi doesn’t know if he wants to run or _punch_ that chilling expression away. “Or maybe you’re not angry, maybe you’re perfectly content dressing like a whore and being my little _present_ from Karasuno. Well, I don’t want it! Go _home!”_

Koushi’s back hits the wall at Tooru’s final punctuated words, and he gasps, suddenly overwhelmed. 

As if he could just _go home._ He’d love _nothing more!_ But he can’t, and he’s sucking it up. Why can’t Tooru just do the same?

Tooru is directly in front of him, the heat of his body mixing with Koushi’s, and the silver-eyed man glares up at him, the word _docile_ forgotten. There were still six guards behind them, armed and armour-clad and straight-faced.

Koushi grabs a fistful of Tooru’s bright blue embellished tunic, and pulls him down so that their noses are only millimeters apart. “You think I _want_ to be stuck being married to _you?_ An egocentric _child?_ Stop acting like you’re the only one affected by our engagement! I was forced away from my entire life, my Kingdom, my _love!_ But this is for the good of both of our Kingdoms, so suck it up and stop being a child!” He hisses the last part. “Neither of us want this, okay? It’s not! My! Fault!”

Tooru’s eyes flash, and he rips Koushi’s hand off of his shirt.

A palm slams against the wall right next to Koushi’s head, making him startle. “Aww, poor little Koushi,” Tooru mocks, sneering. “Forced away from tiny little Kingdom no one cares about, taken from his _love.”_

Koushi’s glare heats, but he’s starting to feel so _small,_ boxed in against the wall with Tooru’s taller, fuller body.

Fingers grab Koushi’s chin, digging into his skin, and force him to maintain eye contact. Koushi practically growls, and grabs onto the taller’s arm, but it doesn’t budge.

“We both know that our marriage is just a little political _game._ No one who sent you here _cares_ about you, and you just refuse to accept that, don’t you?” Tooru leans even closer, tilting Koushi’s head even higher, until his hot breath is fanning over his lips.

Fury floods Koushi’s veins, setting his skin on fire. “Daichi loves me!” He spits out, hand still on the arm that’s keeping his face in place. “Our marriage is for the good of all of Karasuno, and we’re going through with it! It’s not my fault, so stop blaming me and taking it out on me!”

Tooru leans back, finally releasing Koushi, and _laughs._

It’s a mean, dramatic sound, and Koushi grits his teeth.

“Oh, is that what your King told you? That it’s for the _good of your kingdom?_ I bet he even apologized, didn’t he, before he dressed you up like he did and sent you here. I bet he said he had no choice, hm?” The brunette stops laughing suddenly, and looks at Koushi with a little condescending pout. “I bet you were dumb enough to believe that, weren’t you?”

Koushi’s heart is racing, picking up speed with every word, and it takes every single ounce of self-control he has to not throw himself at Tooru, knock him to the ground and _strangle_ him.

The guards are still standing by passively, though Issei and Hiro look amused. It only feeds Koushi’s frustration and fury.

_What the hell is Tooru talking about!?_

“Fuck you,” He hisses, it’s all he can say. His mind is racing. _Daichi really had no choice! He loves me, he wouldn’t ask- well, he didn’t exactly_ ask- _me to come here unless he absolutely had too!_

Tooru’s expression has melted back into an angry, disgusted glare. “I can’t believe I’m engaged to an _idiot._ Everyone else is deceived by your pretty smiles and helpless look. Everyone else thinks that you’re a sweet, intelligent, cute little fiance, but I know better. You’re just an idiot. A lying idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts^^
> 
> EDIT- I just reread through this chapter, and noticed a few typos and formatting issues. I'll fix them as soon as I find time^^
> 
> EDIT(2)- THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE DELAYED!!! BY ONE WEEK!! It's very long!!! And I haven't been able to properly edit because!!! Me and another ao3 user are writing the fluffiest and gayest slowburn oneshot in existence and!!!! I'm very sorry!!! The next chapter is very long and slightly gay so I hope it will make up for the skipped update!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry!!! I did really did think I was going to post w e e k s ago, and I was ready to, but then,,, 
> 
> well, this chapter has been rewritten lots of times, and I'm not quite finished with it, but it's been so long so I decided to cut it off here and post the first half now.
> 
> Someday I'll be able to keep up with update schedules, but today is not that day

_ Three weeks. _

The wedding has been moved up. By  _ three weeks.  _

Tooru Oikawa is going to be a married man in one week. Tonight, there is going to be a ball celebrating him and his fiance. A  _ ball.  _ They will be expected to dance together,  _ hold  _ one another, in the middle of an intricately decorated ballroom surrounded by hundreds of upper-class lords and ladies. 

It’s only been a couple days since Tooru confronted Koushi- he still hasn't even forced himself to ponder if he should feel remorse or not- and  _ they’re getting married in one week and they have to dance with each other tonight and Tooru has no choice and he hates it. _

_ Tonight! _

Tooru had no knowledge of this when he first woke up this morning. He’d woken up in his feather-soft and cloud-fluffy bed, not even able to pull off the silken sheets before his little bastard of a brother had stormed past the guards stationed in front of his room and crashed through the doors, laughing and telling Tooru that the end of his world is advancing.

He’s being dramatic again. But who’s going to hold him accountable? His  _ fiance?  _ No, he can be as dramatic as he fucking pleases. Do what he pleases. (Besides  _ not  _ get married, as the universe seems so determined to remind him. How can he be one of the most powerful people in the entire Seijoh  _ empire,  _ and yet not have control over his fucking marriage?)

“Oi, Tooru, shut up!” Hajime barks, almost making Tooru drop the book he’s been glaring at. The slightly shorter man had arrived two days ago, with a new scar on his face that Tooru knows better than to ask about.

“I haven’t even said anything!” The brunette whines with a glare that's probably more of a pout. He stands up from the pillow he’s seated on on the floor, and quickly walks to where his friend is leaning against the wall, next to the entrance of the library. Hajime Iwaizumi is wearing a stiff peacock-blue coat, decorated with golden tassels and more than a few metal badges that show his ranking within Seijoh’s army.

He’s also sporting a scrunched-face and familiar scowl. “I can hear you dwelling on things that can’t be helped from here. Get over yourself, you damned spoiled brat.”

“Iwa-chan-” Tooru starts indignantly, crossing his arms when he’s a few steps away from his friend. Hajime interrupts him with a softer- as soft as Hajime can get it without sounding forced and awkward- voice and sympathetic olive eyes.

“I heard about the wedding. It's why I came back.”

  
  


* * *

**_My beloved Daichi,_ **

**_I know you told me not to write to you, that it might be seen as infidelity and I could get punished. I can hardly believe that you expected me to follow such a rule. Idiot._ **

Koushi has seen Tooru since their fight. He’s seen him, but he hasn’t given him any second glances or spared him any words. Tooru hasn’t spoken to him, either. It’s like there’s this unspoken agreement between them, to not give each other any time of day. 

He saw him at their midday meal four days ago, only hours after their fight. Koushi had been dressed up in an entirely different outfit- one that had a gaping hole in the back that revealed his shoulder blades all the way to the small of his back- and Tooru had given him one judging, sneering once-over before they both looked away, not to look at each other again.

King Jin had sensed the thick tension in the air, had prodded at it, had asked Koushi how their tour around the castle had been. Asked Koushi if he and Tooru were getting along, if he was excited for the wedding.

The dining room was so cold, the air had been biting at his revealed skin.

**_I miss you._ **

**_Isn’t that so odd?_ **

Koushi had forced himself to nod, let his lips stretch into a smile.

Now, whenever he smiles, he remembers Tooru’s words. One in particular.  _ Liar.  _

**_Whenever I think of you, whenever I picture your face and your warmth and your smile, I feel so disgusted and angry. I feel so angry that my hands ball into quivering fists and one of my stupid guards asks me if I’ve fallen ill because my face turns so red._ **

Their entire fight is echoing in his mind, replaying over and over and over, like a movie on loop that he’s being forced to watch. He remembers the feeling of the wall colliding against his back, Tooru’s fingers digging into his skin with a bruising grip, all the eyes of the guards watching them intensely.

He felt so helpless, while Tooru hissed at him and mockingly laughed at him and yelled at him. But more than that, he felt-  _ feels-  _ angry.

**_But as soon as the anger dissipates, I feel empty and lonely and I miss you. I miss your hugs and your bluntness and your gentleness. Your rough kisses and gentle love._ **

He feels confused. Frustratingly  _ confused,  _ lost. He’s here for one reason, because he  _ has  _ to be, for the good of the kingdom he loves so much. 

**_Prince Tooru is a bastard. He’s an intolerable jackass and I hate him, but not as much as I hate you for forcing me to be here. Because that’s what you did, isn’t it? You forced me to be here. I knew it at the time, but… the more I think about it, the more unclear everything seems._ **

The quill, with its tip dripping ink onto paper in front of him, shakes in his hand. Or maybe, most likely, it’s his hand that’s shaking. 

He’s having trouble processing everything.  _ Pathetic. _

**_Why did you send me here? You’ve always been a master at diplomacy, Daichi. You don’t need to marry off some prince to get on Seijoh’s good side, especially as we were never even on their bad side. It’s difficult to think that my love could have blinded me, even if only slightly._ **

Koushi has always been a quick, if not slightly chaotic thinker. He’s methodical in his thought process when he needs to be, and right now he’s biting his lip, waiting for some kind of proper thoughts to come to him. But none are coming. He just feels lost, and angry, and homesick.

Daichi would  _ never  _ talk to him like that, like how Tooru did.

**_Would you take advantage of that?_ **

Daichi is perfect. Strong and handsome and put-together. Reliable, empathetic, fair and just and  _ good. _

When Koushi’s father died, Daichi was right there, telling him it would be okay and hugging him tight, holding him together. When Koushi’s brothers all gave up on everything, turning into sleazy, drunk bastards who use their power, authority, and money to host grand parties that lasted days on end, force men and women to pleasure them, and drown themselves in fine wine, Daichi was there with Koushi. Daichi listened to Koushi’s concerns about the future of Karasuno, about how the people were suffering and how it would only get worse if any of his older brothers inherited the throne when his mother inevitably relinquished it. Daichi promised to  _ fix it. _

Koushi had thought that him being here, in Seijoh, would help  _ fix it. _ That’s what Daichi told him. Now, he finds himself questioning the thought. He dislikes the fact that Tooru’s words had shaken his faith in his lover-  _ past  _ lover- so easily, but maybe that’s telling of something.

**_I’ve often wondered why it was me that you sent away, instead of one of my older brothers. Is it because they’re much older than Tooru? Not as attractive as me? Most likely, it is because they are useless drunkards. I’m just rambling, now. I’m sure you’re okay with it, you always said my rambling was endearing, and it’s not like I’m going to send this letter, anyways._ **

Tooru’s words keep bouncing around in his mind, echoing and with vivid pronunciation. He hates it. 

Koushi hasn’t  _ fallen  _ for anything, he tells himself. 

(Tooru implied that Daichi  _ lied  _ to him.) 

**_It’s been a tough day, and I just wanted to talk to you, even if you aren’t listening. I’ve been forced to think about things, you know. You told me I think too much, and I don’t know if that’s what I’m doing right now or not. Am I thinking too much? Letting the prince’s words get to me, letting him win? Or is my racing mind valid?_ **

Daichi couldn’t have  _ lied.  _ Wouldn't have. 

What was there even to lie about? How badly Karasuno’s relationship with Seijoh has to be mended? How little choice Daichi had? Those are both things Koushi has been thinking about, even before Tooru’s sneering words.

**_Did you ever really love me?_ **

_ “Oh, is that what your king told you?” “I bet he said he has no choice.” “I bet you were dumb enough to belive that, weren’t you?”  _ Koushi shoves the memories of a few days ago from his mind, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He can still feel Tooru’s breath over his lips, and he  _ hates  _ it.

**_I don’t want to think about the alternative. It was me who suggested you for the throne, after all, when my Mother refused to acknowledge me as her heir._ **

Everything about being sent away feels  _ off.  _ But what the hell would  _ Tooru  _ know? Koushi can’t trust him. 

He’s quickly realizing he can’t trust  _ anyone.  _ He knew that before, of course. He’s royalty, he’s grown up in royal courts and with political schemes and treachery and back-stabbing- metaphorical and otherwise. But the feeling of constant mistrust is finally starting to set in, cold and dark and heavy on his shoulders and stomach and skin.

**_Did you use me? You are certainly smart enough to. You certainly know me well enough._ **

**_I don’t think so. I think you love me. The way you looked at me and held me and made love to me was real. Or am I in denial?_ **

Koushi hates this feeling. 

**_I hate Tooru Oikawa. I hate you._ **

**_With much love,_ **

**_Koushi_ ** **_♡._ **

  
  


He sets the ink-coated quill down gently, takes the letter in his hand, and crumples it. No sooner than when the paper audibly crunches in his hand, the door to his bedroom opens wide with a thud. The sudden noise makes the balled-up paper in Koushi’s hand fall to the floor with his startelement. 

The small servant girl- Ai, Koushi remembers her name is _ \-  _ walks in behind a plethora of guards, holding a little chest with a glossy finish and golden details wrapped around it. She’s just as sickeningly thin as last time, the hollows of her cheeks defined and her limbs seemingly skin wrapped around brittle bone. Koushi feels, not for the first time today, gut-wrenching disgust with the Oikawa family, and how they treat their servants.

Maybe, when he is married and has a sliver of power, he will be able to help them. The thought is a faint silver-lining over his future.

The girl’s face, just like the four guards behind her, is blank and void of any emotion as she approaches the young prince, balancing the chest over her forearms. Her skinny arms are shaking under its weight, but before he can lurch forward to take the burden from her, she speaks.

“This is your crown for the ball tonight, master. It is much smaller and lighter than the one you will wear after your wedding next week, and even more so than prince Tooru’s and King Jin’s. I hope that it is still to your liking.” The girl opens the little hatchet on the chest with a  _ click,  _ and the golden patterned box flips open. She holds it out to Koushi, her eyelids heavy, as the guards form a half circle around them. It feels vaguely threatening, though he can’t figure out why.

More on the forefront of his mind are the perplexing words that came out of Ai’s mouth.

“W-what?” He stutters out, staring wide-eyed at the bright purple velvet in the box and the dainty tiara inside of it. The frame of it is white gold, pristine and clean and reflecting the light from the chandelier above. It’s littered with tiny diamonds and sapphires and some purple gem that doesn’t look quite like amethyst.

It looks flawlessly delicate and daintily elegant. It’s beautiful, every facet of every gem glittering with each quiver of the arms under it.

But Koushi barely notices it. 

“Is the crown not your liking, master? A-after the wedding, you will have more choices-” Her voice sounds a little frantic, and Koushi wants to tell her that it’s  _ okay,  _ that the crown is  _ fine  _ and she’s completely safe, but his head is spinning.

“N-no, what do you mean  _ ball  _ tonight? Wedding next  _ week?  _ It’s still not for almost another month!” He exclaims the questions almost frantically; He ignores the borderline  _ amused  _ looks passing between the guards around them, the sympathetic glint in Ai’s dark eyes. Did the time really pass that quickly, or was the world going to be pulled from under his feet weeks before he’d planned it to? 

Ai blinks. “I’m not surprised they didn’t tell you, it was decided yesterday. There is a ball tonight to celebrate the quickening of the marriage. King Daichi of Karasuno himself approved it. Please be ready for the maids to start preparing you shortly after lunch. You will enjoy a late dinner at the ball, which begins just after moonrise. You and Prince Tooru will dance together at midnight.” Ai delivers bomb after earth-shattering bomb in a plain, soft monotonous voice before moving to set the small heavy chest onto his large bed. Her words hold no venom nor menace, but somehow that makes it worse. “I will be here in fourteen hours to take you to the ball, I suggest that you nap while you can.”

With that, Ai bows low to the ground, then exits the room with two of the four guards following closely in suit. 

The ink on his crumpled letter hasn’t even completely dried yet.

* * *

  
  


The ballroom is  _ enormous. _ There’s giant banners and vividly dyed ribbons hanging from balconies that hold countless musicians. The beautifully tiled dance floor is already crowded with couples performing perfectly practiced spins and dips and in-time steps. Simply lovely orchestra music paired with dainty flutes and piccolos is flowing throughout the entire ballroom, carrying dance and conversation 

There are sprawling tables with countless delicacies laid out upon them with long throngs of people surrounding them to the outskirts of the room, and an atmosphere of chatter and laughter over the jubilant music. It’s a nice ball, Koushi is sane enough to objectively think, but he would love nothing more than for every tapestry and every dress and every decoration to catch flame.

His bright purple dress has a bare back bordered in lavender satin, and the same material is tied in big bows around his waist with the ribbons flowing down the slightly poofy long skirt. There’s accents of white and different shades of purple and multiple gems sewn into different intricate seams. 

He wonders bitterly- with everyday that goes by in this castle, he finds himself getting more and more bitter and  _ angry- _ if he’ll have to wear such stiff and uncomfortable dresses once he’s married, or if he’ll finally be able to just wear trousers and a fancy jacket. The scratchy petticoat rubs against his legs as he shifts where he stands, and it takes just about every ounce of quickly depleting willpower to not scowl.

He feels his hold on his temper slipping with every pat on the shoulder from King Jin, scathing side-glance from Prince Tooru, dirty once-over from Prince Shigeru. Hell, even when a simple jolly laugh sounds above the murmur below and in front of him he has to bite back a growl.

He hates feeling so angry, but it seems like the more he suppresses it, the more it bubbles against his insides and tries to burst out of him. 

He  _ hates  _ it.

He barely had any time to even  _ process  _ the sudden massive increase in pace of the timeline of the unity of Karasuno and Seijoh. He barely had any time to think it through or fucking  _ why it was happening.  _ Why would Daichi approve such a thing, when he knew that Koushi valued every day he had to prepare for the wedding? Why would Daichi willingly erase so many of those precious days?

The royal family plus Sugawara are standing on a slightly raised platform at the head of the ballroom, three thrones behind them- one for the King, and one for each of the princes.

He recognizes the concluding decrescendo of the current song, and with a sense of heavy dread he realizes what happens next. It’s almost midnight, and these last seconds of the song is all he has left before Tooru and him must dance for the expansive crowd, right in the middle of it. He must put his hands over Tooru’s chest and feel those heavy hands that pinned him against a wall on his waist and look into those brown eyes that always held such scorn and distaste towards Koushi.

He clings to that last resounding note of the viola, squeezing his eyes shut and willing it not to end.

But it does.

And the man he must marry in a week is holding out his white gloved hand, chocolate brown eyes intense with lack of emotion.

If Koushi didn’t know any better, he would think that Tooru was  _ holding back _ a sneer.

He tentatively laces his thin fingers with the brunette prince’s slightly thicker and longer ones, and bites his lip to try and suppress the urge to dig his nails into the thin cloth of the glove. He may still be simmering about a few days ago, but this recent development likely has nothing to do with his betrothed. He needs to calm down.

The crowd parts as the grooms-to-be make their way to the center of the dance floor. Koushi’s heart is beating out of his chest and threatening to climb out of his throat. Every eye is on them, on the way Tooru halts them both by grabbing Koushi’s waist in the hand that isn’t holding onto Koushi’s. On the way Koushi’s gently curled fist is resting on Tooru’s chest as they begin their steps, the way their body’s are close enough for their heat to mingle. 

Koushi hates it. He hates the way the notes of the violin pick up into something saccharine that carries them into their dance, and he hates the way he grips Tooru’s hand a little too tight in a telling show of his storming emotions.

Tooru smirks down at him as his lips and eyebrows quiver with the effort it takes to not let his distress show on his features.

Koushi hates it so much.

Here he is, twirling and spinning and stepping in time to music meant for an illusion of romance, and yet deep inside him, burning deep in the pit of his stomach and crawling under his skin and stuttering his breath, is something uncomfortably angry and confused and frustrated. He craves answers, desperately, and before he even has the chance to ask  _ himself  _ questions things have moved on.

_ What can I do to help my kingdom?  _ became  _ why do I have to marry this bastard?  _ which became  _ why do I have to marry him so quickly? _

Tooru leads them into a spin, because Koushi is his gift and gifts don’t  _ lead,  _ and the silver-haired prince digs his nails into the fabric of the bright violet dresscoat the taller is wearing. He’s surprised the brunette isn’t trying to catch him off balance, or speed up their dance, or step on his feet. 

“...You dance well,” Tooru muttered, almost inaudible, as they step to the side. 

Koushi’s mind blanks for a second, and he nearly fumbles on his feet. He keeps his lips shut, fearful of what might spill out if he speaks.

_ Be docile. _

Tooru shifts his arm so it’s wrapped around Koushi’s waist, and pulls him forward, until their fronts are flush together. Koushi maintains eye contact unflinchingly, even as he hears multiple ladies in the audience sigh dreamily. The only show of his inner aggression is his tight grip on his fiance’s embroidered stiff coat and and on his hand.

They twirl again. Tooru scowls at the lack of response. “I said-”

“I heard you,” Koushi hisses between his teeth, making sure to keep his eyes soft and posture perfect. His skirt brushes softly against his ankles. 

Tooru’s fingers dig into his hip, Koushi feels it. Not bruising, but annoyed. 

Koushi is suddenly swooped off of his feet, Tooru’s palm flat against his back and looking down at him with triumphant eyes- why, Koushi doesn’t know, but he  _ does  _ know that there’s no dip in this song.

He seethes invisibly as he’s lifted back to his feet. Even more things for him to overthink. Tooru’s sudden apparent attempt to hold back his resentment for him. That weird victorious look glinting in his deep brown eyes.

Koushi feels, for the first time, truly miserable, and a little hopeless, and the light tiara on his head feels heavier than ever.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts, comments, and kudos appreciated<3
> 
> Sorry if the pacing is weird, I want to keep this into ten chapters or I'll never finish it.
> 
> Wahhhhhh the action will be picking up soon, I'm very excited^^
> 
> (edit)- spelling and a few grammatical errors have been edited<3


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